1 Oliver was afraid to look at either her or the man.
2 The master was a fat, healthy man; but he turned very pale.
3 'Ay, my man,' said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, with a condescending smile.
4 There was no fire in the room; but a man was crouching, mechanically, over the empty stove.
5 The man's face was thin and very pale; his hair and beard were grizzly; his eyes were bloodshot.
6 'Nonsense, my good man,' said the undertaker, who was pretty well used to misery in all its shapes.
7 'Nobody shall go near her,' said the man, starting fiercely up, as the undertaker approached the recess.
8 Having unloosened the cravat of the man who still remained extended on the ground, she tottered towards the undertaker.
9 In other words, five pounds and Oliver Twist were offered to any man or woman who wanted an apprentice to any trade, business, or calling.
10 Mr. Sowerberry was a tall gaunt, large-jointed man, attired in a suit of threadbare black, with darned cotton stockings of the same colour, and shoes to answer.
11 An old black cloak had been thrown over the rags of the old woman and the man; and the bare coffin having been screwed down, was hoisted on the shoulders of the bearers, and carried into the street.
12 In great families, when an advantageous place cannot be obtained, either in possession, reversion, remainder, or expectancy, for the young man who is growing up, it is a very general custom to send him to sea.
13 The man who had never once moved, since he had taken his station by the grave side, started, raised his head, stared at the person who had addressed him, walked forward for a few paces; and fell down in a swoon.
14 As Mr. Sowerberry said this, with the becoming indignation of an ill-used man; and as Mr. Bumble felt that it rather tended to convey a reflection on the honour of the parish; the latter gentleman thought it advisable to change the subject.
15 'You're a rough speaker, my friend, but you look an honest, open-hearted man,' said the old gentleman: turning his spectacles in the direction of the candidate for Oliver's premium, whose villainous countenance was a regular stamped receipt for cruelty.
16 Now, Mr. Bumble was a fat man, and a choleric; so, instead of responding to this open-hearted salutation in a kindred spirit, he gave the little wicket a tremendous shake, and then bestowed upon it a kick which could have emanated from no leg but a beadle's.
17 If he had hesitated for one instant to punish Oliver most severely, it must be quite clear to every experienced reader that he would have been, according to all precedents in disputes of matrimony established, a brute, an unnatural husband, an insulting creature, a base imitation of a man, and various other agreeable characters too numerous for recital within the limits of this chapter.
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